


D'aria The Coward

by NursePhantump



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NursePhantump/pseuds/NursePhantump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of D’aria Ma’drashi. Nightingale, assassin, dragonborn, and coward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Chance Encounter

The gleam of the sun shining down, the snow covered stones of the ruins, the slash of iron daggers, and the sounds of a skeleton crumbling to the ground. That is where our story opens, onto a simple Khajiit who was now rummaging through the bones of her newest “victim”, searching for anything useful. Which, of course, there was nothing of use besides a few gold pieces. Skeletons rarely ever had anything good after all. She sighed, standing and removing her fur hood to shake her head a little and brush some hair from her blue eyes.

Though she was now in her early twenties, she could never get rid of the kitten-like appearance she always had. It’s not like you can just give a Khajiit makeup, it’s a bitch to get out of the fur. She would never understand how Nord women managed to wear the stuff. Then again, there were a lot of things she would never understand about the nords. She had to admit though, they made good armor. Warm, comfortable, and light.

She sighed, turning away from the now dead skeleton and fixing the ponytail she always put her rather long hair in. It was especially long for a khajiit, along with being rather smooth and well taken care of. She had always prided herself in her hair, her parents had called it black silk, her younger sister had made a wonderful game out of cutting it away at one point. But what did that matter any more, stupid memories like that weren’t needed. She had chosen her path, she couldn’t leave it now.

She opened her eyes once more, looking to the skies for a mere moment and seeing something in the distance. It looked a piece of the night sky had suddenly decided to make it’s way into the light of day. She stared for some time before realizing something slightly frightening. It was getting closer. A lot closer, very quickly. It had wings, that much she could see and that’s all she needed to know to decide on a course of action. Hide.

She sprinted to the nearest bit of shelter and crouched down as she watched whatever the hell that was get closer before feeling the ground shake with it landing. It had landed, oh god it had landed. Why had it landed there?

“Dovahkiin.” It spoke, wait that thing can speak? How the fuck does that thing talk? And what the hell is a dova keen? “Zu’u mindok los het, Dovahkiin.” It spoke again, another thump was heard almost throwing off her balance but she managed to keep it and sneak a peek at whatever it was.

It’s body was long and scaled, its muzzle that of a lizard with large curved horns. Black as night with eyes that glowed red like blood, wings larger than anything she could ever imagine even her wildest dreams. A faint smell of rot came from the creature, making her grimace a little and panic as she had to hold in a sneeze. However, this reminded her of something. Her mother had once told her stories of creatures like this. Creatures with giant wings, large claws, and faces of lizards. How they spoke in a strange language, breathed fire, and smelled of decay.  But this couldn’t be what she thought it was, those things had been dead for thousands of years right?

“Do you not understand our language, Dovahkiin?” It asked, making her quickly press her back against the stone of her hiding spot as she felt it begin to stomp around. “I hear your hil, Dovahkiin. Your heart. I can feel your su’um and I have felt your miin look upon me. Your breath and your eyes.”

This now lead to the question of if he knew these words, why was he saying them in his weird language first THEN in english? Wouldn’t it be much simpler to just say it in english if he knew she couldn’t understand? Well, it seemed like a he. Maybe it wasn’t a he, maybe it just had a very deep voice. This is not the time to think of those things.

“Hmph, fine then Dovahkiin. If you will not come out now, I shall wait for another time.” He said, seemingly upset actually. “We will meet again, rinik das. Very soon.” She felt a large gust of wind and heard the pumping of wings as it glided away. She couldn’t see it go, assuming it had gone the opposite direction of her line of sight. Her pounding heart kept her motionless for some time, possibly only minutes though it felt like hours before she finally got up and exited her spot. She looked around, seeing where the dragon had landed by the black markings in the snow. As if it had burned the stone itself. She knelt down to look at it, going into her backpack ripping a piece off of a roll of paper and letting it land on the spot. As she thought, it burned quickly.

That was when the full reality of it all hit her, that was all real. That dragon was real. Those weird words he spoke were real. She stood, slowly backing from the burn marks on the ground. She had been many places, seen many things, she had been in multiple crypts full of draugr and even fought a couple falmer. But nothing ever came close to the fear she felt then. It was a fear that took her entire body, a fear that made her fur stand on end and made her tail curl as she shook with fright.

With the bravery she had earned throughout her adventures, she ran from that place. Not looking back and not wanting to look back. She doubted she could have even if she wanted to.

This is the story of D’aria Ma’drashi. Nightingale, assassin, dragonborn, and coward.


	2. An Explanation

D’aria now sat in an inn, specifically the Bee and Barb in Riften. A place she had visited many times, after all it was the only place that actually let a Khajiit stay the night, but today was different. She had just seen a bloody dragon after all and it seemed like she was grabbing any drink she could get a hold of to forget. She wore her tavern clothes now, something more comfortable and a bit free while her armor stayed in a locked chest in the room she had rented for the night.  
  
Talen-Jai had definitely noticed his regular drinking more than usual. A regular he happened to like really, she cracked good jokes and seemed like an ok person and always paid her tab. So he sat next to her, if only for a moment, just to ask what was going on like any good innkeeper.  
  
“Milady, I hope this isn’t too presumptuous to ask, but is everything alright? You’ve been drinking all night.” He said in a concerned tone, eyes on her to gauge her reaction. She looked up and pointed at him, drink in her hand and clearly a little more than tipsy.  
  
“Buddy, you wouldn’t believe my fucking night.” She stated, taking a deep gulp of a velvet lechance, her favorite drink from the inn and putting it on the table while wiping her mouth on her fur. Talen just watched her, a little disgusted with her actions just now but not wanting to cause a scene.  
  
“Well, what seems to be troubling you?” He asked again, hoping this wouldn’t take long. Keerava would yell at him if she found him shirking his duties, he loved the woman with all his heart but she had a fire unmatched by anyone in skyrim.  
  
“Fuckin’ dragons man.” She mumbled, placing her finally empty beverage on the table. Talen looked at her with disbelief, eliciting a chuckle from D’aria. “Yeah, wouldn’t have fucking believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it.” She stated, pointing another furry finger at him. “Fucker was black y’see, black wings black scales. Only color he had was them red glowey fucking eyes.” She explained, grabbing a mug of cliff chaser from the other table (eliciting a few curses from the patron sitting there, but he gave up pretty quickly seeing the state she was in) and chugging it down before slamming it back onto the table, making Talen jump. “Said some bullshit about a dova keen or something, spoke a language I couldn’t fucking understand.” She said and sighed, looking at the mug she had just grabbed and pushing it away before putting her head down onto the table, using her arms as a cushion as she groaned. Talen gave a little gulp as he looked around, people were looking at both of them due to her mention of dragons and it hadn’t been until then he had even begun to notice.  
  
“D’aria,” He hesitated and looked back to the khajiit, who now lifted her head a little to look at him. “Did you hear about Helgen?”  
“Eh? That town near riverwood?” She asked, now lifting her head back up a little. “What about it?”  
  
“Well,” Talen seemed to hesitate for a second, looking around and leaning in to whisper to her. “I heard a dragon attacked there.” He stated, D’aria stared at him for a second before beginning to chuckle.  
  
“My man, if you’re trying to get a laugh out of me you need a better tactic.” She said between giggles.  
  
“No, no, I’m serious.” Talen replied, still whispering despite D’arias rather loud tone. “Ulfric Stormcloak was even there, he was one of the only survivors.” D’aria looked at him for a moment, letting it all process.  
  
“That dragon...was that…?” She hesitated, almost afraid to say it.  
  
“It could have been.” Talen replied, D’aria looked down for a second before standing up, throwing some coins on the table to pay her tab.

  
“I’m going up to my room, I need to sleep the drinks off.” She stated, her stance slightly wobbly as she made her way up the stairs and eventually to the waiting bed where she flopped onto it, tavern clothes and all, to sleep for the night.


End file.
